Big Ballet Dilemma

I have been faced with this dilemma for more than two weeks, I still don’t know what to do and I have to find a solution like NOW. I know that the decision should be mine, but I’m in desperate need of advice.

As you know, I’m studying in Salamanca. This is my last year of university, and therefore it is also my last year of ballet in this studio with this Amazingly Awesome Ballet Teacher. I had a ballet class for beginners today. I felt so much ahead the rest of the class. I’m not swaggering; it is a fact. We did a new barre and I could remember all the steps and I performed them pretty well. I didn’t get any corrections from the teacher. Only things like “very well, Nerea! You’re doing fine!”

Well, it seems that I have a pretty much pretty and amazingly cool life. What is the problem, then? The Problem is this:

Class finished and Amazingly Awesome Ballet Teacher told me that she didn’t know why I still was in that class with the beginners. She had spoken with intermediate ballet teacher (with whom I have had an intermediate class and two hours of pointe. That equals three hours), and this second person had told her that I could totally get enrolled in intermediate class. She said I was doing well; I just needed to have a little more agility at the centre.

So I told Amazingly Awesome Ballet Teacher that I didn’t feel really confident in intermediate level. She answered that she was sure I was ready and intermediate ballet teacher thought the very same. I hesitated for a second and Amazingly Awesome Ballet Teacher shouted: “come on!!! It’s always me! I always have to push you guys to do new things! Come on, Nerea! Go to intermediate level!!! You can do it!!! I know you can!!”

So, these are my options:

• Stay in ballet class with the beginners, with Amazingly Awesome Ballet Teacher, 2 hours a week + 1 hour of flamenco, also with Amazingly Awesome and Adorable Ballet Teacher.

• Go to intermediate level with Not-So-Awesome-Ballet-Teacher. This means 2 hours a week + 1 hour of pointe shoes with her… And not flamenco at all, because, you know, my budget has its limits.

The first option means that I will focus on the basics again; on very easy things that I can already do, which can be nice… or not so nice, and of course, staying with lovely teacher. Second option means, of course, something like: “bye, bye, Amazingly Awesome and Adorable Ballet Teacher, forever and ever, and hello, stressful ballet classes in which I learn so much and I can actually dance like a ballerina, but where I don't really know if I'm performing correctly!”

There are other options, but certainly less advisable, like giving up flamenco, staying with the beginners in ballet class and going to intermediate pointe class. Or going to intermediate ballet classes, giving up pointe and going to flamenco with Amazingly Awesome Ballet Teacher.

Should I repeat that Amazingly Awesome Ballet Teacher absolutely wants me to go to intermediate level, because she thinks I have some kind of potential?

My head is a total mess. Any experienced advice?

Oh, and if I choose option 2, I will dance like Tamara in a few years. Yeah, sure... ;)
Look at that super AWESOME winged foot!!!

Nerea.

Twitter talks pointe class

Going to ballet class. Excited. Je vous vois dans trois heures, tweeps!

This is how I said goodbye on Twitter last Thursday. Three hours went by, I got home, and this is what I wrote:

Back from ballet class... with GREAT NEWS. OH-MY-GAWD, OH-MY-GAWD, OH-MY-GAWD, YOU GUYS.

My teacher has invited me to JOIN TOMORROW'S BALLERINA CLASS, aka POINTE CLASS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

POINTE, POINTE, POINTE, POINTE. I'M GOING TO A POINTE CLASS TOMORROW!!!!!!!!!

I haven't been to a pointe class since I was 13. So I've just (re)joined the club of people who like to mangle their feet on purpose!!!

Please note my mental breakdown. It might be serious. Later that day I also had my sentimental moment:

I just wanted to say that... I love you all, ballet tweeps. I'm so happy to be a part of this community where we can share our impressions.

And then, another mental breakdown. This one is a little milder, as I was starting to assimilate the news:

Sorry if I'm a little annoying, but I can't help jumping and shouting in joy! I AM EN POINTE, YOU GUYS.

It seems that when your ballet teacher invites you to try pointe class, you feel everything. Fear, of course, is the order of the day:

But I'm a little worried, because pointe class won't be with my regular teacher. The other one seems a little harsh (?).

Oh my God. I am going to suck so much this afternoon at pointe class.

Then, I got ready (see feet here) and went to pointe class.

And this is the result of it:

Advanced pointe class is serious business, guys. It felt good, but I was doing pointe with 15-17-year-old girls far more talented than me, who could do piqués en tournant without problems. But the good news are that my feet weren't hurting at all!!!

I will go to the academy on Monday again. I will talk to my pointe teacher and to my regular teacher and we'll see what they think about me.

Oh my, I'm dehydrated!!!

I guess my teacher was right (they know us better than we think). I was prepared. I didn’t break my ankles in pointe class.

The problem was the technical level. They should give a pointe class for beginners, because I simply couldn’t follow the steps. Seriously, how the hell do they want me to do a hundred piqué turns EN POINTE in my first class in 8 years? I can't even do them properly in slippers!

Definitely, I could totally go to that pointe class during barre and port de bras. But the diagonals were too much. TOO. MUCH.

Oh, and by the way... I think my ballet teacher just promoted me to intermediate class. Maybe I did something well today, after all? =)

Nope, I hadn’t done anything well THAT day. This is what hapenned yesterday when I went to talk to her:

My ballet teacher had spoken about me with the intermediate teacher before the academic year started.

She told her I was strong, had a good posture, a very fast evolution and could perfectly fit into the intermediate class (and pointe shoes).

She said that last year she could tell I had danced for many years before. In her (translated) own words: “I just had to polish you up a little bit, but now you’re ready”.

So she has definitely invited me to try intermediate level. She said I could be a little lost at the beginning, but she believed I was prepared.

SO I AM HAPPY.

And also sad, because that means that I am probably going to class with another teacher. And I like Mrs. C so much, you guys. Because she’s lovely.

My super old pointe shoes, which look less crappy with their new ribbons!

Nerea.

The Day when it happened

Today I went to my second ballet class of the year.

The first one, on Tuesday, was fine, but there were some new people, so it was slow. I have no problem with that, as we’re starting again after three months and I believe it’s better not to start with a full variation at the centre.

But I am here to write about today, which is going to be known as “The Day” from now on. Because, nice reader, “The Day” was good, so good. Barre was very simple; I did the exercises without much trouble, except for a: Nerea, try not to move your body so much when rond-de-jambe-ing with your left foot. Because, you know, Left Side is evil. It’s the Dark Side of ballet. I am such a disaster with my left part of the body, seriously.

Also, I could finally keep my balance for many seconds while doing a passé relevé, which is a huge achievement for me, due to my weird hips and knees.

Later we started with the diagonals, which consisted in walking. Yep, it was simply walking as ballerinas in first position. Mrs. C asked me not to be “so correct”. She said that my walking was technically perfect, but I should be more relaxed. I can’t help being tense; I haven’t danced in three months!

So when ballet class finished, a friend of mine asked the teacher about the possibility of attending pointe class this year. It was a private talk, actually, but when I finished putting my flamenco clothes on (because “The Day” wasn’t over yet), I joined the conversation. I said I was also interested in that, but Mrs. C thought it was maybe too early because we had been doing ballet for less than twelve months. She said that we shouldn’t join “Pointe Class” anyway, mostly because it’s for advanced people. There’s no pointe class for beginners right now. Nice reader, that is a shame, you know. She also said that she would try to arrange a thing on the timetable to make us come half an hour before our normal class to be able to do some barre work en pointe. BUT, that would be next year. NEXT YEAR, or as soon as in March, April or so. That is a total disaster. A total and absolute disaster, because next year I will be a graduate and I will not be in Salamanca for ballet class after June. But that was her last word.

Then, flamenco class with my flamenco classmates started. We’re currently dancing some beautiful alegrías, but I’m not comfortable. I’m, you know, used to delicate movements and tense body; I’m more classical! And that doesn’t have anything to do with the fiery steps of alegrías. So we’re doing a nice step in which you have to move your right foot forward and with it… you also have to move your right hip. Well, I can’t do that. I keep doing a tendu. And that’s not it. And of course, Mrs. C has realised, because she ALWAYS realises. She said she had the same problem when she started with flamenco after so many years of ballet. Ha! I’m not the only one! She suggested me to relax my body and to forget about ballet (which is not easy at all). So I guess I can say that the bad news are that I am not good enough at dancing flamenco because I am too ballet-y. Oh wait… are those bad news? I don’t really know.

Class finished and I got dressed normally to go back home. I was kind of sad. Or disappointed, or something. Mrs. C was at the reception when I was about to leave. I was determined to let her know that I had some pointe shoes at home which I wanted her to see if we were ever going to do some barre work, even if it was in April. I think I sounded a little desperate, actually, haha. No, but seriously, I told her that if she was going to teach us half an hour or so in April, I wanted to show her my old and crappy pointe shoes in case she didn’t like them and wanted me to buy some new ones. Because they are really crappy, guys. Really, really crappy…

And this is where magic begins!

The conversation was something like:

Mrs. C: Oh, but you already did pointe?

Me: Yes! I did a year and a half of pointe, a long, long time ago!

Mrs. C: I knew it! You have very strong legs and feet. You can do it! I just don’t want the rest of your classmates to injure themselves because of my decision. But you can do it!

Me: B-b-but…

Mrs. C: You can go to pointe class tomorrow. Speak with the teacher, she’s there.

Me: But… it’s an advanced level!

Mrs. C: You can do it. Go, have a look and try it. Hey, Mrs. M! Nerea took pointe class a long time ago!

Mrs. M: Ok, she can come then!

Me: B-but my pointe shoes are old… and… crappy!

Mrs. M: No problem, just bring them! I will see you tomorrow, Nerea!

And I stand there, open-mouthed. I take a deep breath and utter a shy “see you tomorrow, then!”

I leave, and while "The Day" comes to an end, I take my mobile phone and call my family with tears in my eyes.

Nerea.

I can do it, guys!

So a month and a half ago I wrote this post about ballet being French, in which I said that when I was a little girl I was very proud of my grand écart. I also stated that those were happy times and that now I couldn't do it anymore.

But guys... I don't know how or when it happened, but now I can do it! I CAN DO IT!

When I was trying to do some pirouettes -by the way, I'm getting better at those-, I said to myself: "let's see if you are closer to the ground when doing the splits!" And I tried... and went down, and down, and down... and this is what I got!

Ha! And it's not a fake one! A little painful it is, but not fake!

See? I can do it, I can do it! *Happy dances*

Anyway, I still don't understand it. I really don't. I haven't stretched that much these days, and I haven't done much ballet during summer. I guess even if it's just a little bit, stretching works. It really does! And that is the proof you were looking for!!!

So... stretch, guys! STRECH!

Nerea.

I was an interpreter!

You know what? Last week I was an interpreter. Not a professional one, since I wasn’t paid, but I was a real one. And it felt so good!

You all know I’ve had some training on interpreting, and I think I did quite well, considering that it was reverse interpretation into French.

So I went to the Valporquero Cave with my family and a friend from France who happens to speak many languages including French, Portuguese, English, Italian, Luxemburgish, German and others… but she doesn’t speak Spanish. And in the cave we had a guide who spoke kind of quickly, but very, very clearly and spontaneously, so I thought it was my moment!

I stood next to my French friend and I practised chuchotage from Spanish to French. I chose this language because it’s the one I feel better with when it comes to reverse interpreting. The speech had many specialized words related to the rock formations in the cave, but I think I could cope with them quite well. I did not say everything, but I transmitted the most important parts and I felt proud. There was also a little girl looking at me while I interpreted and I think she liked it. Maybe I was able to awaken her curiosity! (?)

So that’s all. I have to admit that it feels calmer when you’re not being judged by a professional interpreter like in class, although I know that those kind of things are not usual in the interpreter’s world, as they’re people who commonly work together in booths!

You should totally visit the cave. It is amazing!

Keep interpreting!

Nerea.

Back to normal life… or almost

I'm back in Salamanca after three months of holidays.

Even though this is meant to be just “my student life”, it is also “my normal life”, as I live here for nine months a year.

So everything is back to normal. I’m living again in an apartment full of dictionaries, interpretation notebooks, German books, dancing clothes and ballet posters (if I ever buy a house, the decoration will absolutely be based on this), full of precooked food and technologic devices… and wild animals. Eh… what? Yes, wild animals are back! Right now, I’m living with a huge moth, which decided to come inside my flat on Saturday evening and we are becoming friends. Anyway, I hope it leaves soon, or I will have to start with “aggressive negotiations”.

Getting to the “pointe”, I’m officially enrolled in the Translation Itinerary, which is full of hours related to translating specialized documents FR>ES, ES>FR and ES>EN… (I liked the teacher I met yesterday; she was so French, and had such a lovely accent!) And I’m also going to some hours of Interpreting a week (two, I think). By doing this, I’ll enjoy interpreting (no matter what, I keep saying that this is what I like most), but I will not be so much stressed. I really have to find a solution for that. I can’t be an interpreter if I’m not able to cope with my own mistakes or with my shyness.

Also, I’m preparing a planning for the semester related to my free time at home. I will probably use it for reading or for interpretation, focusing mostly on English to Spanish speeches and I will also do some stretching (both things at the same time… why not?).

As regards my dancing, yesterday I went to my studio twice. The first time I just asked when classes started and if I needed to enrol myself again. The answer to first question is next week (ZOMFG, YAY!), and to the second, nope. Also, I liked that everybody in there remembered my name and everything about my dancing studies.

The second time I went to my studio was five minutes later, because on my way back home I remembered that I had bought some pictures of the festival in June, and I hadn’t picked them up yet. So I’m back to the studio, right when a class is finishing… and I see my teacher (I missed her so much, for realz! She’s so lovely, you guys. So lovely!) And she asks me about my summer and if I am going to do flamenco this year too (obviously she doesn’t ask about ballet, because she already knows I will.) I tell her I won’t, because there’s been a change on the timetables. She looks at me and says that it’s not true; that for me, it’s the same as last year. So I show her the timetable and say: “look, flamenco for beginners! See? It’s one hour later!” And she says: “my dear, you are not longer a beginner! You have to be on intermediate level this year!” And I’m all open-mouthed and say something like “OMGWHAT!”, which I don’t really remember now. So I get enrolled right away and leave the studios happily happy.

Get that, y’all!! I’m a flamenco intermediate dancer!!! Did you read that!?! I am a freakin’ flamenco intermediate dancer! In just one year! HA!

I just wish I can ask her: “hey, lovely Mrs. C! Can we have a talk about pointe shoes?! Las puntas, pa’ cuando las dejamos?” Because I so want to be on pointe again.

Still, I am freaking excited about the new subjects that I will discover during this week, and so, so happy about next week, when I will start ballet again after three months.

It’s a happy week in Salamanca. Everything is back to normal… or almost everything!

The city where I study is lovely, innit!?

Nerea.

First pair of pointe shoes

I thought you would like to see my first pair of pointe shoes; the ones I used when I was eleven!

I used to have very little feet for my age (I still do actually, although not as much), so… my first pair of pointe shoes is kind of tiny. It’s a European size 33, which, according to a chart I just found, is like an American 1,5Y (I don’t even know if that’s right). They are almost the size of my hand, look at them!

Also, I like Corella Ballet. A lot.

As you can see, they seem to be almost unused. Actually, I wore them for a really short period of time (I would say… four or five ballet lessons), because my feet grew a little bit and then it was painful to even walk normally with them on, so I had to buy some new ones!

Nerea.

Just like Tamara Rojo

So the other day my mum was with her friends, showing this picture of myself dancing at the dance school recital in June:

I was also there, listening to their conversation, and you know how it is when mums start talking about how amazing their children are… yeah, so not fun times.

And then, suddenly, one of my mum’s friends said: wow, look at her! We have a Tamara Rojo in here!

And I was like WTF!, because you can obviously tell that the woman doesn’t know anything about dance, since Tamara is not a flamenco dancer, and even if she was, I could never be as good as her…

But if she wanted to make a compliment (which, I am sure, was her purpose), she couldn’t have chosen a better one, because for me, Tamara is the bestest ballerina ever.

So I couldn’t help but think:

Awwww! Take that, I am like Tamara Rojo! Do you hear that, evil single pirouettes? I have now pwned you! You are now pwned, because I can do 32 freaking fouettés in a row!!!

And then I went home and tried to pirouette… and failed miserably as always.

[…]

Maybe in a few months… (?)

Nerea Rojo.

I am going to be a translator

I guess I had to write this blog post, because I have officially decided it. Well… kind of. Yes, I am going to become a translator specialised in localization. And a good one, I hope.

As you know, I started this blog because I thought I wanted to become an interpreter, and the fact is that I still want to (why do I have to choose? WHY?), but I have several reasons to decide that I prefer studying translation:

1. Although I liked very much my Interpreting lessons last year, the truth is that I am not used to that kind of stress and it made me feel bad before, during and after class. I only found it rewarding when I did it well, and that didn’t happen usually.
2. They always say that Interpreting can be taught, and I absolutely agree with that, but it is also true that there are some “gifted” students that can do so much better than "normal" people. Sometimes I felt I was the worst student in class, even though I know this isn’t true. Yeah, I am too pessimistic and it doesn’t help.
3. I love reading. I love languages. I love reading and translating documents. When I find an interesting topic, I love translating it (well, it is true that instruction booklets are not usually fun, but still). And I find it rewarding; I am actually good at it, and I feel I never stop learning things.
4. I have discovered the amazing world of localization. I already knew it existed, but I hadn’t thought of it as a possibility. But the fact is that I have always loved anything related to technologies (I did my first webpage at the age of 8, when some people didn’t even know that the Internet existed) and I would love being able to translate software or even videogames. So cool! 

So next year I am going to enrol on translation lessons, but that doesn’t mean that I am not going to learn how to interpret!

I guess that one of the things that made me feel stressed last year was the final exam. Because I was thinking of the exam during the whole year and since I didn’t see a big improvement on my interpreting skills, I couldn’t help but think I wasn’t good enough to pass. And since this year I just have half the usual number of credits (I did too many during the past three years), I am going to attend Interpreting lessons along with would-be interpreters, but I will not do the final exam.

Because… in spite of the things that I said before, I LOVE interpreting so much. It makes you feel stressed, but free. You can play with words; with your language. You can learn things about everything. You can meet people from everywhere. You have the satisfaction of being the only person that can help some people who, without you, couldn’t even say “hello” to each other, perhaps. You have the satisfaction of hearing: “yes sir, I have understood you”.

So I guess I have to change the title of this post:

I am going to be a translator… and an interpreter!

P.S.: … And of course, the best ballet dancer I can! (Is this the year? Will I be on pointe again? We’ll see!)

Ballet is French

When I was a child I was very normal. And as a normal, Spanish, little girl, I did not speak French.

When I went to ballet class, I used to learn the names of the steps by their sound. Actually, I think I didn’t know it was French, anyway. My mind worked this way: if Mrs. R said tandí*, I quickly pointed my foot. If Mrs. R said yeté*, I did the same, but separating my toes of the ground. No questions.

How could I imagine that those words had a real meaning and that they were in French? Nobody had told me! There’s no way I could know that my tandí was actually a tendu, which means extended; or my yeté, which is really a jeté, something thrown away. This makes things easier to remember, huh?!

It is funny that just some months before I stopped my ballet training, I started with my French lessons at the High School. I realised that I had a deeper knowledge of that new language than my fellow classmates, and most of all, because of ballet. You know, when you’ve heard many times that shanshmán* thing, you freak out when you realise it is spelled changement and it means change… But you don’t find it hard to remember! The same happened with many other steps: my padeshá* didn’t really look like a pas de chat until I knew I was doing a cat step. Same with my beloved padebugué*, which I still remembered when I (re)started a year ago, but I hadn’t realised it was a pas de bourrée. And finally that awesome gran ecar* of which I was so proud! Because, nice reader, there were some lovely times when I could actually do a grand écart! Unfortunately, those times are not here. But French is. And believe me: it’s making ballet easier and more fun (if that is even possible).

So… put a little of French in your lives. Give ballet a chance!

Nerea.

(*) I write the sounds just like I heard them when I was a child; c’est-à-dire in Spanish.